I had just turned five. Most of the year had been spent with the Gentle Fist quite literally beaten into me—muscle torn, then healed and rebuilt, over and over again, thanks to my handy little healing factor.
Painful? Sure. But it gave me strength and stamina far beyond what a kid my age should've had.
Recently, Haruto moved me on to the Eight Trigrams, officially declaring my Gentle Fist "passable." Not "good," not "excellent"—just "passable." Months of relentless training and all I got was a pat on the back and a grunt. God I hate this clan, and their asian parent's attitude toward raising their young.
Did you know that contrary to popular belief, the Eight Trigrams isn't just one technique, despite what the name might make you think. There's a whole series of them: Sixteen Palms, Thirty-Two Palms, and so on. Most people know about Eight Trigrams: Revolving Heaven—the one Neji was called a genius for—but apparently, that move is exclusive to the clan head and heir. Haruto made that very clear.
A shame. Creating a dome of spinning chakra looked awesome. But honestly? It's probably a chakra hog. Better to not get hit in the first place, Minato could testify to that. Although that was after he got himself impaled by Kurama. I shelved it for later and focused on the stuff I actually had access to.
"The Eight Trigrams rely on the Hyuga's innate ability to expel chakra from every tenketsu in their body—" Haruto droned on.
Blah blah blah.
He could seriously talk forever. And he explained things like I was a child—Which I was, but that was not the point. I had considered asking for a different teacher at one point. But Haruto's the best taijutsu expert in the clan outside the head. So I sucked it up and mentally braced myself for years of stoic lectures and long-winded rants from the boring man.
Eventually, my one-on-one time with Haruto was cut short to make room for a new kind of torture: reading, math, calligraphy, and worst of all, the clan's history lessons. Aka Propaganda lessons.
Yay for me?
Thankfully, there were no tests. That gave me time to keep training on my own and think up ways to push ahead.
One of those ideas? Weights. Or better yet—weighted seals.
The elders actually approved it. But then my mother showed up, seemingly out of nowhere, and vetoed the idea with a soft but firm, "No… you'll stunt his growth."
She turned and walked off without another word, leaving a very nervous-looking Haruto in her wake.
I just sighed.
Did she actually care? Hard to say. Plus I didn't think it was worth thinking about. So naturally like a certain icy princess, I let it go.
Time passed peacefully like that. My taijutsu kept improving fast. Reading and writing? Not so much. But I kept grinding away. Eventually, I reached a point where the clan decided I was ready for the Academy and, in my mother's words, "wouldn't embarrass the Hyuga."
A glowing endorsement, truly. Love you too mom.
So it was this morning that I packed my pack, and faced my most dreaded fear ever since reincarnating in this world. School.
It's a bit dramatic considering my future's problems, but I digress. Plus it would be quite a challenge to restrain myself from putting some snot-nosed brat in the dirt. My fists yearn for blood everyday, and Khorne demands it.
Blood for the Blood God!
Skulls for the Skull Throne!
Jokes aside, mother did tell me to make some friends, and even though I made no promises, I think I owe her that at least, and will do my best to make at least one.
With that on my mind, I left the house with mother in tow, reluctance, and excitement filled my mind at the same time, as I walked to the academy.